


zoey's extraordinary anxiety

by tilldeathdouspart



Category: Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fight me on it, Friends to Lovers, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Max is a sweetheart, he also has a cat im not sure why im just convinced he does, it might just be because i love a friends to lovers story, they belong together, zoey has anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:09:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tilldeathdouspart/pseuds/tilldeathdouspart
Summary: so i've decided that zoey has anxiety, i'm not really sure why but now i'm convinced she has it. also let's pretend that max was back at work to finish something up because i kind of forgot about him leaving when i wrote this.anyway basically zoey has a panic attack and max is there for her. might write some more but who knows?!
Relationships: Zoey Clarke & Max Richman, Zoey Clarke/Max Richman
Comments: 15
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

Zoey and Max had known each other for years, longer than any other relationship of hers had ever been, romantic or platonic. It was one of the main reasons she was so hesitant to move forward with a real relationship with him, but right now, she was overwhelmingly thankful for the history between them.

She’d gone back to work a week after the funeral despite the protests from her mom and every other person in her life. She needed it, she’d convinced herself, just trying to restore some normalcy back into the chaos and unnavigable emotions plaguing her recently. Yep, just a couple of days back at work should help her get back to normal. She’d been convinced by both Max and Joan to take a half day and not come in until 12, which had pacified her mother somewhat, but now as she was walking in to work she couldn’t help the tension slowly creeping into her body.

It was a sort of secret, her anxiety. It usually didn’t affect her work too often so she’d never felt the need to tell anyone at work, apart from Max, who’d once found her in a corner of the meditation room quietly hyperventilating about the fact that she couldn’t solve a minor bug in a program she’d helped create. From then on he’d been attuned to the common signs of a Zoey panic attack.

Which is why when she noticed herself picking the skin of her lips and flinching every time she heard someone shut their laptop or walk just a bit too loudly, she saw Max watching her out the corner of her eye. Noticing that, she tried to ground herself before he had to jump in and save her, knowing it probably almost definitely wouldn’t work because it never did.

5 things you can see.

4 things you can feel.

3 things you can hear.

2 things you can smell.

1 thing you can touch.

Come on Zoey. Concentrate. Don’t turn this into a big thing.

The more she tried to follow her normal technique the more she could feel herself spiraling, her legs starting to shake as she quickly pushed away from her desk to march over to the tiny hallway by the women’s restroom, praying that thanks to her singular status as the only woman on the fourth floor it would be empty.

Her prayers remained answered for less than 30 seconds when Max came round the corner, gently pulling her toward the empty meditation room, out of sight of the rest of the floor.

As they entered the room Zoey finally let a small sob out as she choked on the air fighting its way into her lungs. She felt totally out of control of what was happening around her, something she had become used to after years of dealing with attacks alone in the bathroom. As she paced up and down the room she jumped as Max stopped her, holding her by the shoulders to stop her movement.

“Hey, Zoey, look at me,” he said, helping her focus on something other than the overwhelming feeling of panic rising up her body. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Right now a complete inability to form words was incredibly inconvenient, so the only thing she could think to do was nod and pat her chest, trying to show him she needed help to breath.

“Right, okay. On the floor?” Another nod. “Okay.” It took a lot of effort on both their parts for the two of them to get to the floor, Max behind and Zoey sat between his legs with her back against his chest.

“Okay, just try and follow my breathing Zo, in and out,” Max’s exaggerated breathing behind her, feeling his ribcage move up and down, in and out, slowly forcing her chest to move with his, his hands resting on her stomach.

As the shaking stopped and her breathing was slowly returning to an admittedly shaky but much more stable rhythm, she was able to take a deep breath and heave a sigh through a small downfall of tears.

“You good?” Max asked, pulling Zoey slightly to one side as he heard her sigh.

“Mhm hmm, I think so,” she whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Zoey, why are you apologizing? You never have to be sorry when this happens.”

“It’s not your job to look after me though, I don’t want you to feel like you have to-”

“I know it’s not my job,” Max smiled quietly, brushing a couple of tears off her cheeks, “But if you ever feel like this I want you to come and get me, every time. Never hesitate,”

“You say that every time,”

“And every time I mean it,” he placed a kiss on her hairline as she turned around to face him, sitting cross legged between his.

He pulled her into his chest as she nestled her head into the crook between his neck and his collarbone, breathing in his scent as she was able to slow her racing thoughts. Her eyes drifted closed as she leant into the warmth surrounding her radiating from Max’s arms, turning so she was curled up against as much of his body as possible. Before everything that happened with her dad she’d never realized the comfort his arms could five her, but right now, in the aftermath of a panic attack, she felt safe. And comfortable.

She could easily fall asleep in his arms, slowing her breathing and feeling her muscles begin to relax into his body.

“Stay there Zo, I’ll be back in a minute,” he whispered into her hair, gently moving her upright before pulling a cushion underneath her head before quickly making his way out of the room. It was a room she spent very little time in, but it was pretty peaceful in her sleepy state.

As the door opened she saw Max walk in carrying her bag and his, along with his keys.

“Come on Zoey, I’m taking you home,”

A small whine of protest tried to make its way out her throat before it was silenced by Max pulling her up off the floor. “Zoey, you are not staying at work after having a panic attack and nearly falling asleep on the floor of the meditation room. I am taking you home.” he said, a definite tone of finality in his voice, pulling Zoey towards the door. “

Wait Max I-” Zoey said, speaking above a whisper for the first time in 45 minutes. “I can’t go home,” she was staring at the floor, avoiding his puppy dog gaze for as long as possible.

“That’s okay. Where do you want to go?” God he was good to her.

“Can we go to your place?” She asked sheepishly, feeling the guilt from her request set in before the sentence had even fully left her mouth.

“Um, yeah sure, let’s go,” He answered, pulling her into his side before walking them quickly to the elevators, knowing she’d be embarrassed if the entire fourth floor saw her teary eyes.

-

It was a short ride back to Max’s apartment, consisting mainly of companionable silence other than a small question asked by Zoey about how Max’s cat Loki was.

As they walked through the door it struck Zoey, not for the first time, that Max’s family had money. His apartment had a small air of someone who could easily afford it, yet had a distinct Max feel that clearly showed he couldn’t care less about how big or small it was so long as it had a comfy couch and a nice bed in it.

“I’m gonna grab you some clothes, then you’re gonna go and take a nap,” he said, throwing some finger guns as he motioned her towards the bedroom, a mere nod coming in response.

She padded softly towards his room, smiling at the pictures on the wall of the short corridor. There were a few of him and his family, a baby Max in a Spiderman costume in particular bringing a smile to Zoey’s face, but they were mostly of him and his friends from college and after, Zoey featuring heavily in them.

There was one that was hung in the center of the group of the two of them at what looked like an event at SparkPoint, although there had been so many she couldn’t quite remember which one. It was clear it was in the very early days of working there, both of them fresh faced and in the early twenties. It was the smile on both of their faces that made her stop and stare. They were ones of complete contentment, as though they had found pure bliss in each other's company, her tucked in tight to his side with an arm sound his waist, her facing the camera, and Max with his arm curling around her as he looked down at her, gazing softly at her.

“Hey, so I’ve left you a pair of sweats and a t-shirt on the bed, and I’ll bring you a cup of tea in after you’re changed,” Max said before she could further analyze the implications of the photo.

“Thanks,” she smiled, looking up at him. “

No problem,” he replied, nodding gently before heading off in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Zoey to her own devices.

As she got changed into the oversized clothes he’d left her, tucking herself into the large bed, she drifted off as a smile graced her lips, burrowing into Max’s scent, Loki curling up next to her.

She felt home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another one, yey! this just keeps getting fluffier...

Waking up in a bed you do not immediately recognize as your own is incredibly unsettling, especially when you have a vague memory of falling asleep in daylight, and feeling the heavy weight of a foreign object by your feet. 

This was all something Zoey realized as she fell back into consciousness, not wanting to open her eyes and face whatever was waiting for her. As she opened her eyes, she dimly recognized the wall art as different posters for varying Marvel movies, but it wasn’t until she recognized Loki as the strange object by her feet that she remembered the events of the past day. As she brushed a drool stiffened piece of hair off her face she reached for her phone, discarded carelessly on the side table, noting with some shock that it was now 7:38pm, a full six and a bit hours since she’d arrived at Max’s apartment.

She slowly slid out of the warm comforter, picking Loki up and hugging him close to her chest, before padding down the hall with the bottoms of Max’s sweats pooling at her feet. 

“Hey look who’s up!” Max said, a smile cracking open his features.

“It’s me!” she said, returning the smile as she plopped the cat onto the couch next to Max.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked nonchalantly, doing a terrible job at covering up the concern in his voice.

“Yeah,” she answered honestly, “Although it’s incredibly weird to wake up when it’s no longer daytime and you don’t recognise the bed you fell asleep in at first.”

“It’s a comfy bed though, right?” he joked, nudging her shoulder as she leant over the back of the couch.

“Yeah I pretty much passed out the second I got in it.”

“I know I tried to bring you a cup of tea and you were dead asleep,” he laughed. “I have got dinner on the go though, if you want any?”

“I’d love some actually, I’m starved,” she replied, realizing she hadn’t actually eaten a proper meal since the night before. 

“You have excellent timing, it should be about ready.” he smiled, breezing past her towards the stark white kitchen.

As they ate the casserole Zoey was fairly certain he’d stolen from their house the last time he’d been over, they made general small talk. That easy going banter they both have between the two of them doing God’s work in making sure the conversation didn’t lag. The conversation, however did take a slightly more serious turn when Max asked a question she always dreaded.

“So,” he began, swallowing down the last of his wine. “What do you think triggered you, you know, at work?”

“Uh,” Zoey murmured, choosing this moment to be incredibly interested in a bit of carrot floating around in the bowl. “I don’t know, I guess it was just a bit weird to get back into coding.” 

She was sure he could definitely tell she was avoiding the question, choosing to press her further instead of letting the subject drop as she wanted him to.

“But it had to have been something right? I mean you always say there’s a reason for them.” he pressed. 

Disregarding her noncommittal shrug of an answer, he continued on. “Come on Zo, we were in such a good place. Please don’t shut me out again.”

Letting her fork drop on the side of her bowl, she sighed, preparing her thoughts so they wouldn’t come up in trademark Zoey word vomit.

“I guess it was just the thought of actually going back to normal, you know, working and eating cereal every break I get and carrying on like nothings changed when everything's changed.” she started, trying to gather her thoughts. “I mean, I have his picture framed on my desk. It’s been there for over a year, from when he first got diagnosed. I was so used to seeing it that I didn't even really notice it anymore. But now, I don’t know. It was just another reminder that the guy that was one of my best friends isn’t here anymore. I can’t go and see him and vent and he can’t talk to me or hell even sing to me because he’s not, there. And he’s never going to be.”

“I know Zo,” Max sighed.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked back to where Max was sat opposite her across the table, those big brown eyes full of an emotion she didn’t dare name. 

“And, I don’t know what to do without him being there. He’s just, always been there.”

“I can’t tell you I understand, because I haven’t lost a parent, and I also have a terrible relationship with mine,” he scoffed. “But, what I can tell you is, I don’t think your dad would be expecting you to cope with this by yourself, or for you to go back to work this soon.”

“But I’ve already missed-”

“Zo I honestly don’t think he would care,” Max said sternly, care encasing his voice. “I know your dad loved that you loved work. But I also know that he’d want you to be taking care of yourself. And right now you’re not.”

Zoey, sat staring unseeingly across the table, slowly digesting the words Max was saying. 

“How am I supposed to do that?” she whispered, not wanting to admit she needed his help, almost knowing he’d offer it up to her.

“Well for one, I’d start by asking me if you could stay here until you want to go home,” he said, trying to regain her focus, “To which I would say yes, by the way,”

A faint smile started to grace her lips as she took in his words. “And two?”

“Number two I would call Joan and ask her for more time off, and as you have the most stellar record of anyone who works at SparkPoint, I’m sure she will agree.” she rolled her eyes as he continued to lay out his plan for her. “And three I would go and get back into that incredibly comfy bed, turn on whatever Real Housewives you’re watching at the minute and each whatever sweet thing I can find in my refrigerator.”

She smiled at him, getting one of those special just-for-Zoey smiles back, slowly making her way across to him as he stood to take away their plates, catching him in a warm hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his neck where she’d hidden her face.

“You’re welcome,” he smiled back, pulling her into himself tighter. “Now go and watch some trashy TV!” 

He pushed her away in the direction of her room, leaving Zoey to stare at the incredible man before her, in some kind of awe as to the lengths he was willing to go to to make sure she was happy. 

God she loved that man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading again guys, it means everything to me that people actually read me fics. also, yes i'm going to write another chapter but right now it's nearing one am so that will be a job for tomorrow em. as always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> thanks,  
> em xx


	3. Chapter 3

She padded slowly to the soft leather couch in the living room, turning the TV onto whatever real housewives was on, quickly getting sucked into the pointless drama. Apparently, one of them had said that someone else smelt like a hospital, and that was incredibly offensive to her. 

It felt so natural, walking around Max’s apartment like she’d been there a million times before, just wandering around in her socks and sweats. Feeling him sink into the cushions beside her, he placed their bowls onto the coffee table in front of the two of them. She quickly grabbed it, noting the extra sprinkle of grated chocolate he’d sprinkled on top, just the way she liked it.

“Nice?” He asked her as she crammed as much ice cream, chocolate and strawberries in her mouth as her body would physically allow. 

She nodded back, thumbs up and a full, puffed out cheek smile going his way as she realised how good it was to have a best friend that could actually cook and make incredible comfort foods for her. 

He shook his head, chuckling quietly to himself, taking his own bowl onto his lap and leaning back into the couch to settle in and be brainlessly absorbed into the TV. 

Zoey finished in record time, owing slightly to the fact that she hadn’t eaten in about 17 hours, but also mainly because Max had made it, and his food was always incredible. She gently placed the bowl back on the table, scooping up Loki on the way and placing him in her lap. Unconsciously, she leant into Max’s side, prompting him to lift his arm around her as she burrowed into him, leaning her head on his shoulder. 

It wasn’t like they hadn’t done it before, they’d kind of always been that way, but ever since the day her dad had died Zoey had been hesitant to go back to that platonic intimacy they’d had. She wanted everything to go back to normal, but at the same time knew she wanted to move forward with Max. It was a definite crossroads for the two of them, and she had avoided giving it much thought the past few weeks, not wanting to consider the consequences if something went wrong. 

Sleep came easy to her for the first time in weeks, wrapped in the warmth of Max’s cologne like it was completely natural to the two of them. Zoey drifted quietly off to sleep, feeling Max pull her gently closer to him as he shifted to rest her head on his collarbone. She slowly realised how their bodies were intertwined, finding that Max had clearly done it unknowingly too, she found she wanted that. And she wanted him to want that. That wasn’t so weird was it? To want your best friend back? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the super short chapter! i found this one weirdly hard to write but i hope i'll make up for it with the next one as i've got a long angsty one coming up!! as always, kudos and comments greatly appreciated!
> 
> thanks, em x


	4. Chapter 4

This routine continued on for the next few days, Zoey being woken gently by Max before he went off job hunting, eating whatever leftovers were in the refrigerator on the couch before Max came home in the afternoon to watch a movie and make them both a home cooked meal before she fell asleep on his shoulder and he carried her into the guest room, leaving the cycle to repeat itself day after day.

Zoey made sure to check in with Max on his feelings regularly, trying to make sure she wasn’t inconveniencing him, to which he always replied that she was welcome to stay for as long as she liked. Throughout her stay she’d encountered two more panic attacks, though they were nowhere near as severe as the one she’d had on her first day back, owing mainly to the fact that Max was able to pull her out of them before they got too overwhelming. 

9 days, 3 hours and 17 minutes after Max brought her home (not that she was counting), she decided she should probably talk to him about how and when this was going to stop as she was starting to really need to go and get some more clothes aside from the ones she was stealing from Max’s closet. She sat on the couch with a bowl of chips trying to watch whatever movie was on TV, unable to stop her eyes from wandering to the door every few minutes. 

When he finally came through the door, she caught the smile on his face, instinctively returning it as came towards her. 

“Hey Zo, how do you feel about pizza tonight?” He asked, passing through to the kitchen as she followed him.

“From The Joint?” She asked, lighting up at the thought of pizza from their favourite takeaway. 

“Isn’t that the only place?” Max chuckled, reaching for his phone, already knowing their order by heart.

Zoey waited patiently as he placed their order, silently preparing what she wanted to say. “So Max,”

“So Zo,” Max parroted.

“I think I need to go home,” she said, lowering her eyes to focus on picking at the skin around her nails.

“Okay,” he replied, Zoey thought she heard a slight hint of disappointment in his voice. After he didn’t say anymore she decided she needed to elaborate.

“I need to get some more clothes and stuff for work for the next couple of weeks because as much as I love wearing your sweats, I don’t think Joan will think they’re ‘work appropriate’, she barely lets my normal clothes pass,” she rambled.

“Wait, you want to keep staying here?” Max asked, forcing Zoey to look up at his face, some form of unidentifiable emotion seeping through his eyes.

“Uh yeah, if that’s okay?” She asked quietly. 

“It’s more than okay,” he said, smiling at her, “You can stay here as long as you want, you know that.”

“I just wanted to make sure.” she grinned.

“So when do you want to go, before or after pizza?” he asked, in a significantly better mood now than he was when Zoey first approached the subject.

“Definitely after, I’m starved,” she smiled

“Great, let’s do this!” Max replied, running round the island in the middle of the kitchen to lift Zoey into a hug, leaving her to wrap her legs around his torso as he spun her around.

They chatted about nothing together as their pizza arrived and they ate through their meal, unaware as to how much time was passing between the two of them. As they drove back to Zoey’s apartment she became quieter, a silent feeling of dread filling her chest. She hadn’t even been back to the vicinity of her building since the morning she’d left for work, catching up with Mo through facetimes and her mom with frequent phone calls. 

Just before her breathing started to speed into attack territories, Max’s hand reached across, squeezing her thigh before grasping her hand, lulling her into a calmer state of mind as he brushed his thumb over the back of her hand, soothing her racing heart. 

They didn’t talk much as they rummaged through Zoey’s closet, Max grabbing her extra work supplies, and, as an afterthought, her toolkit, thinking that at some point she’d want to take apart his microwave at some point in the near future. 

Zoey was quiet as she rhythmically packed away her clothes. She carefully pulled out a variety of sweats and work clothes, still trying to pick out the most comfortable outfits of appropriate napping qualities. She had avoided looking at any of the pictures on her walls which were filled with her father’s face peering at her from every angle. 

However, as she finished packing for the week, she caught sight of a picture of her alone with her dad, caught from the back. It was a simple shot of the two of them sitting at the edge of a pier, feet dangling into the water, Mitch’s head thrown back in laughter at whatever Zoey had said to him. After a moment of hesitation she took the frame off her dresser and placed it carefully in her bag, zipping it up just as Max walked into the room, a quiet smile on both their faces.

They made their way quickly out of her apartment, neither of them wanting to stay there for long, Mo catching them as they locked the door.

“Hey Little Red, Mr Max, what’re you two doing here? I haven’t seen you here for weeks!” he said in his usual dramatic way. 

“Oh we’re just grabbing some stuff for Zoey to take back to the apartment so she’s not stuck in my sweats and old college shirts all the time,” Max said innocently, unaware of Zoey’s futile attempts to stop him before Mo could hear Max’s full story.

“Oh really?” Mo asked, inclining his head in that way Zoey knew meant she would be getting a call later that night. 

“Okay, well we’ve got to go ‘cos Max has got to get to work early tomorrow,” Zoey gushed. “I’ll talk to you later Mo!” She quickly pushed Max towards the stairs, sending a glance to Mo, who was gleefully leaning against his doorframe watching Zoey’s face contort into a form of panic and general despair as she knows Mo is going to be unrelenting in his efforts to know what was going on between the two of them.

She slid her bag into the back of Max’s car before dropping into the passenger seat as she sighed deeply. 

“You alright?” Max asked, concern coating his voice as he maintained eye contact with her.

“Yeah, you just better be ready for a long conversation with Mo later,” she said smiling at him, knowing why he was truly worried about her.

“Oh, I’m ready,” he smiled back, “Are you?”

Zoey sighed again, preparing herself for her answer. “I think so,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so to make up for the really short one i posted earlier, i've got a long one for you! does anyone want me to get into zoey's grief? cos i think i kinda want to go there but i'm not sure if anyone would also want it. anway, kudos and comments are always appreciated and keep me writing. 
> 
> thans, em x


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zoey and max talk about her grief

Grief is an odd thing. You always think it’s going to be straightforward and you’re going to see an easy way through it, or they’ll be a timeline for it. Zoey thought it would be easy to get through it, she’d already endured what felt like months of grieving already, but as soon as she’d stepped into her apartment it had felt like that night all over again. Grief was circular, and apparently it was travelling in incredibly small circles right now.

Slipping out quickly had been at the top of Zoey’s priorities when Mo had cornered her and Max, but now that she was sat in the near silence of Max’s car she could feel it creeping up on her again. Alarm bells began ringing in her mind, alerting her to the idea that if they didn’t manage to get back to Max’s apartment in the next 15 minutes, Zoey was going to have a full-fledged breakdown in the passenger seat of his Audi. 

As her breathing started creeping up to an alarming rhythm, breaths becoming shallow as worry started to encase her chest, Max reached across, holding her clasped hands in his, rubbing his thumb against the smooth skin of the back of her hand. The calming effect kicked in almost immediately, distracting her thoughts from the anxious energy racing through her body. 

“Just breath, Zo, we’ll be home soon,” he whispered, smiling softly at her.

“Mmhmm,” she smiled tightly back

“Do you wanna talk about it now or when we get back?” he asked, trying to decipher the faraway look on her face.

“Home,” she croaked, the tightness of her throat making it difficult to get the words out. 

“Okay, just keep taking those deep breaths and I’ll get you there as fast as I can,” he said, speeding up slightly as he rounded the corner.

The rest of the drive passed quickly, Zoey putting all of her focus onto the rhythmic pattern of Max’s thumb brushing against her hand. It continued as they made their way up the stairs back to Max’s apartment, him tightly grasping her hand, pulling her behind him towards the safety of his home. 

He turned her towards his couch, sitting her down and wrapping a blanket around her, as she pulled Loki onto her lap, gesturing for a halls of water as she began to gather her racing thoughts into something coherent. 

“Okay,” Max breathed as he handed her the water, “You don’t have to tell me exactly what this was about, but I think I need to know the basics.”

“No, I want to tell you,” Zoey replied, sipping the water, finding Loki’s sweet spot behind his ears.

Max remained quiet as she continued to fuss Loki, patiently waiting for her to set the pace for the conversation.

“It’s been two weeks since the funeral and I guess I haven’t thought about it that much, because I didn’t want to? I think I just liked living in a world where my dad was still here, like he’d just gone on a trip somewhere, and that’s not my reality anymore. Because no matter how much I want him to, he’s not coming back. I can’t change that. No one can change that. And I have to stop living in a fantasy world where someone can. I just feel like I’d got through so much of this already and now I’m right back at the beginning and I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this anymore. I just feel like I’m going in circles around everything.”

Max turned to lift her chin towards him, wiping away the tears she hadn’t realised had fallen, maintaining a soft eye contact between the two of them.

“Hey. Grief is a funny thing. It doesn’t move in a straight line. It doesn’t make sense. I know that’s gonna be hard for you to understand because it’s not concrete like science,” he scoffed, “but I think it’s just something you have to go through in your own time. It’s never gonna be easy, but I’m gonna be here to support you the whole time.”

“Thanks,” Zoey smiled. “I’m glad. Are you sure I’m okay to stay here?”

“Zo, you can stay here as long as you want,” he whispered, puling her in closer to his side, letting her burrow her head into the crook of his neck. “I’m happy for you to stay here until you’re absolutely certain you want to go back home, but if it’s any longer than a week we should probably get you some more clothes.”

Zoey giggled, breathing in the strong scent that was so distinctly Max as she nuzzled further into him. 

She felt him quickly fall into the easy pattern of sleep, feeling his chest rise rhythmically underneath her cheek, unable to get herself to follow suit as her mind was crowded with thoughts. 

It had been almost a year since the first diagnosis, and ever since then she felt like she was living in a constant state of either anger or denial, never making it past the first few stages of grief. She knew it was going to be different when her father actually passed away, but was it so bad she thought she might’ve had a head start on her process? And yet here she was, half asleep on her best—friend-turned possible-boyfriends’ chest after almost having a panic attack when faced with her own apartment. How was that fair? To her or to Max. 

She just wished she could understand it. Why it felt like she was just going over the same guilt and anger adn sorrow she’d been through a hundred times in the past year. But, like Max said, she just had to believe that grief wasn’t linear, that it was a circle, sometimes hitting you at full force over the most minute things. She just had to wait for the ripples to get bigger as she adjusted to life without her dad. 

And here, with Max absentmindedly stroking her arm in his sleep, she guessed that was a pretty good place to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again guys! i am so sorry this has taken so long to put up but it brought up some stuff for me that it turn s out i havent fully gotten over lol! combine hat with christmas and lockdown no3 in the uk and its been a bit insane for me the past couple of weeks. 
> 
> a always, kudos and comments give me life and thanks for reading!  
> em x

**Author's Note:**

> i really hope you enjoyed this, as always comments and kudos are always appreciated, thanks!! let me know if there's anything you'd like to see and if you like me writing these characters? i'm never sure about writing in a fandom i'm kind of new to so feed back is very welcome! 
> 
> thanks guys,  
> em xx


End file.
